


Cheap Imitation Midweek Challenge #2

by dairesfanficrefuge_archivist



Category: Highlander - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-12-31
Updated: 1999-12-31
Packaged: 2018-12-18 06:08:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11868279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist/pseuds/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist
Summary: by Palladia, LA-LA lander, Ysanne





	Cheap Imitation Midweek Challenge #2

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Daire's Fanfic Refuge](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Daire%27s_Fanfic_Refuge). Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Daire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/dairesfanficrefuge/profile).

 

CIMWC #2

**Cheap Imitation Midweek Challenge #2**

* * *

**In the Life Part 2 by Palladia**   
The Many Faces of Death On A Horse... by LA-LA lander   
Sitting Pretty by Ysanne 

* * *

**In the Life, Part 2  
by Palladia**

Jake was waiting on the sidewalk for her, knew her schedule, expected her, and still almost let Edie Simwick pass unfollowed. 

Gone the piled up red hair, the very short skirt, the high heels. Glossy dark chestnut braids fell down her back. She wore a jumper, dark blue with a little print, over a white blouse, patent leather shoes and white socks. She looked like she'd get carded trying to buy cigarettes, but her habits didn't include smoking. She carried a little white paper bag of candies, popping them into her pink lipsticked mouth, and when she spotted Jake she waggled one at him, with a child's naughty grin. 

_Pity she doesn't have a shepherd's crook,_ Jake mused. _She'd make a great Bo-Peep._ So where could she be going in a getup like that? 

There came the familiar lavender Lincoln, Lily's car, and by sheer luck, two cars behind it was an open taxi. Bright yellow sawhorses closed the streets of Chinatown, so neither Lily nor the cabdriver could get past the perimeter. The festival was already in pretty good swing. There was the dragon weaving through the crowd on the shoulders of many people, their feet showing under its skirted sides, small firecrackers popping in its wake. 

There was a wall of noise, thousands of people, and Chisholm knew he'd earn his keep tonight. He worked up to about four feet of Edie, grateful that she was out as Bo-Peep among the tourists and costumed Chinese people who had turned out. 

All his attention was focused on keeping the braids in sight, so the hand that caught his arm took him completely by surprise. 

"What you want with my Edie?" Lily's voice was right at Jake's ear, the brim of his fedora brushing Jake's hair. "You been following her, now, coupla months. You don't buy her and you don't talk to her. What you want?" 

Jake looked into the brown eyes, level with his own. He wanted desperately to be away from Lily, but he heard no threat in the questions, only curiosity, and whatever else happened, Edie would check in with Lily. 

Lily's grin was matter-of-fact. "She goin' to meet a John." He shrugged. "A 'Chan.' Chinese guy." 

Jake grinned back at him, pointed to a stand selling skewered meat, and pulled some money out of his pocket. The chunks of meat dripped juices and soy sauce, and little cups of the hot Chinese mustard came with the meat. They ate leaning forward to keep the juices from dripping on their clothes, wiped off their hands, and Lily nodded toward a vender selling iced drinks. This time, he paid. 

Jake pulled one of his little sketchbooks from a pocket and handed it to Lily, who flipped through it, glancing up at Jake now and then. 

"Ought to get a modelin' fee, you using my girls like this." 

Jake spread his empty hands. "I never touch them." 

"Huh. You got me, too." The sketch showed Lily's aquiline features, his eyes shadowed by the hatbrim, the plume slanted back over his shoulder as he bantered with one of the other girls. 

_As a Watcher, I have something to learn,_ Jake mused. _Lily peeled me off Edie like a fox losing hounds._

Lily was looking beyond Jake to someone else, and his grin widened. "Wags, my man!" he greeted the Chinese man who approached them. He turned to Jake and said, "Wei Gai. I really ought to know your name." 

Jake put out a hand that engulfed Wei Gai's, and said, "Jake Chisholm." 

"You know Mr. Lily?" 

"We have acquaintances in common," Jake said. 

"Ah, yes! Mr. Lily and I also have acquaintances in common," Wei Gai said, with a smile that didn't quite crinkle his eyes. 

"I gotta do some bidness here, Jake. International trade, you know. I'll see you around." Lily maneuvered Wei Gai away, ducking through the weaving dragon and sliding between a couple of booths. 

When Jake saw Lily next, he had a Chinese girl wearing a cheong-sam swaying along on each of his arms. 

"Madam Butterfly - two of them," Lily introduced the girls to Jake. 

"They're Chinese. Butterfly was Japanese," Jake protested. 

Lily brushed this away, along with a flea on one of the girls' hands. It was dotted with bites, and Jake didn't even want to think what her unseen skin must be like. Fleas were intolerably itchy, and she must be numb not to feel it. Her eyes, her companion's eyes, were distant, glazed. Some drug, Jake knew, must be coursing through the girls, making them compliant. 

"So, where's Lily?" 

"She and Suze ought to be on the plane to Shanghai by now. They'll like China. Nice little vacation. These girls will get the exotic trade here, and Wags will make out on American girls there." 

Now Jake was really frantic to get away from Lily. He wanted to get to the airport just as soon as he possibly could. Those two girls in Shanghai - they'd be virtual slaves, not speaking the language, no way to get home. . .just like the two girls with Lily now. 

Joe Dawson, he needed to get to Joe's bar, he needed advice. Wait, Joe was in San Francisco, but he had a cell phone number. Jake backed into a fairly quiet doorway, and punched it in to his own phone. "The party you have called is not available. Please leave a message." He left his own number and an urgent plea. 

It took fifteen minutes to get to the perimeter of the festival, another ten to catch a cab to head for MacLeod's loft. The dojo was open with a couple of students working out, but the elevator was keyed out of service. Jake went back out into the street, and stared up at the loft's windows. No lights. MacLeod must be out. 

There was a notices board with Post-it notes at the dojo door. On one note, Jake sketched Wei-Gai, on another one a fleur-de-lis. On a third he put his own cell phone number and two manacled hands, folded as in prayer. He stuck them to the wall of the elevator by the control panel, then left for the airport. He hoped he could find some trace of the girls before they were out of the country. 

To be Continued 

* * *

**The Many Faces of Death On A Horse...  
LA-LA lander**

*****Ack! I was attacked by a Muse! There I was, blissfully issuing Cheap Imitation Midweek Challenges, thinking I was safe and out of harm's way, when suddenly, without warning, this afternoon a Muse snuck up and pounced on me, forcing me to write this. I blame it all on the muse and take no responsibility whatsoever. 

* * *

'Methos??! What are you doing at the Bay to Breakers?!' Amanda looked with incredulity across the crowd of people filling the street with a festival atmosphere. Methos gazed back at her like a deer in the headlights, and even across the crowd she could see the will to flee creep into his eyes. 'Wait right there,' she called, waving at him and fixing his gaze with determination. 

A human centipede, a witch, a frog, a prince, and 3 condoms followed by a bunch of sperm paraded by on their way to the starting line before Amanda could make her way across the street. 

'What on earth are you doing in San Francisco, Methos?' she called out as she came near. 

'Shhhhhh! The name is Benji. Benji Adams.' Methos pasted a sudden smile on his face, then a mock look of surprised delight, then, adopting a decidedly effeminate manner, he brushed past Amanda and spoke animatedly to someone just behind her. 

'Ricky! How wonderful to see you! You look fabulous! Just look at that tan. You and Fabio have been to Bermuda again! Naughty boy, you just love all those gorgeous men in Speedos, don't you?' 

'Benji, darling...kiss, kiss! What *have* you done to your hair? You must come by the shop to*day* and let me try to repair the damage!' Ricky looked Me—Benji up and down critically. 'I think I see you as...a blond! Yes! We must do it *immediately*! My gawd Benji, *what* is with the baggy old sweater?' 

'Um...I was just visiting my uncle this morning and haven't had a *moment* to change. He's a traveling salesman, very conservative, you know how it is.' 

'Oh, Benji, do I ever. Would you like some Gummy Bears? I just *love* these things.' He held out a small white bag full of colorful candies and shook it at Methos. 

'Uh, thanks,' said Methos, taking a few pieces from the bag non-committally. 

Amanda watched Methos' exchange with the flamboyantly dressed Ricky with great amusement from just behind Me—Benji's left shoulder. Noticing her rapt attention on them, Ricky looked at her pointedly. 

'Excuse me! Do we know you?' He waved a hand toward Amanda and back several times, then glared at her expectantly. 

'She was just...' Benji stuttered. 

'Tiffany,' said Amanda, holding out her right hand. 'Tiffany Bangle. I'm an old friend of...Benji's.' She bit her lips and smiled without looking at Methos. 

'Darling! Enchantée! Any friend of Benji's and all that. Well you're much too classy to be in all this madness,' he waved a hand at three clowns, a giant butterfly, and another condom that were passing by. 'And you're certainly too classy to be a friend of Benji's. Where *did* he ever meet you?' 

'Oh, you know Benji. Always full of surprises.' Amanda gave Methos a cat-who-ate-the-canary look. 

Ricky turned back toward Methos, while looking over his shoulder checking out some young men in running shorts. 'Benji darling, how's Alex? Where are you hiding him this time?' 

'He's...gone I'm afraid.' 

'No! Not *gone* gone?' 

'Yes, I'm afraid so. Two years ago next month.' 

Ricky looked as though he would quickly loose the battle to keep from bursting into tears. He grabbed Methos and hugged him tightly, patting his back consolingly. 'Oh no! Oh, Benji, I'm so sorry! Alex was so very good for you. And I never got to actually meet him!' Ricky stood back, still holding Methos by the shoulders, and looked at him earnestly. 'Did he enjoy the world tour at least?' 

Methos/Benji brightened noticeably. 'Yes, it was wonderful.' He patted Ricky's arm and looked at him earnestly. 'We planned to call you from Santorini, we truly did, but Alexa...a...Alex got this bad sunburn that developed into a horrible itchy rash, and getting into town to use the phone was just out of the question.' 

'Darling! I do understand. Oh you poor dear.' He held out the small white bag. 'More Gummy Bears? I just *love* these things.' 

'Uh, no thanks.' 

'Oh Benji!' Ricky gave him another crushing hug. 'Make sure you come by the shop, I'll hold a spot for you this afternoon. Blond, darling! I'm telling you it will change your life. Tiffany, darling, so wonderful to meet you. Come by the shop with Benji. We'll give you a conditioning wrap and scalp massage that will make you think you've seen God.' 

'That would be lovely! Can you give me the address?' 

'No!' Methos cried, with a look of panic. Noting Ricky's surprise, he added more calmly. 'She can come with me. She's not familiar with The City, and you know how ghastly it can be to find parking.' 

'Sorry darling. Didn't bring any cards with me,' said Ricky to Amanda, ignoring Benji's outburst. 

'Here,' Amanda said brightly, 'write it on this!' She dug in her handbag and pulled out a pad of yellow 3x3 Post-It Notes and a Mont Blanc pen. 

'I told you she had class,' said Ricky, fondling the pen before writing on the small pad with flair. 

After exchanging several rounds of air kisses and more sympathy hugs for Benji, Ricky gaily went on his way, leaving a trail of feathers that had come loose from the trim of his tight-fitting sweater in all the hugging. 

Methos and Amanda stood smiling and waving until Ricky no longer turned back to look at them, and was lost in the crush of oddly and athletically dressed people. 

'Benji???!!' Amanda turned to Methos practically licking her lips. 'Oh, this should be good!' 

'Amanda, I can explain. I have to hide out once in awhile, and what better place than as a hairdresser in San Francisco? It's a good place to disappear when I'm not in the mood to herd yak.' 

'Hairdresser? You, a hairdresser?' 

'Yes. I have quite a talent for it, actually.' He looked a bit miffed by her continued skepticism. 'I have many skills and talents. Just because I don't choose to use all of them all the time doesn't make them any less valid.' 

His look changed from self-righteous to mischievous. 'And what are *you* doing at the Bay to Breakers, Amanda, or should I say Tiffany? We both know it isn't to run in the race.' 

'Oh, I'm here with MacLeod. He's running to benefit some charity for starving orphans or something. I thought it might be fun to spend a couple of days in San Francisco.' She flashed Methos an impish look. 'I had no idea how much fun.' 

'Amanda,' said Methos through gritted teeth 'if you breathe a word of this to MacLeod I swear I *will* kill you.' 

'Come on, Methos! This is just too good. Methos as the Queen of San Francisco! You have to let me tell *someone*! How about Joe?' 

'Definitely not Joe! Amanda, not a soul! Tell no one. I mean it. Or I'll have your head stuffed and mounted on my mantle.' 

'Oh, spoil sport,' she pouted. 'Alright then, but you have to take me to Ricky's later. You owe me that much.' She looked at him coyly. 'You're going to love being a blond! Something spikey, I think, with an earring. One of those little gold hoops.' 

Methos gave her a look that would eat the paint off a wall. 

Amanda hooked her arm in his and continued gaily, 'Oh Methos, don't be grumpy! It's a festival. Look, over there! They're giving away free Gummy Bears. We can bring some to Ricky. He *loves* those things.' She dragged him toward the Gummy Bear booth. 

'I passed up yak butter for this,' Methos grumbled. 

* * *

**Sitting Pretty  
Ysanne**

Duncan MacLeod pulled the heart-shaped Post-It note off his phone and lifted his eyes to the heavens, asking for patience. He knew he had probably annoyed Amanda when he accused her of lifting his Platinum Visa, but this was too much. 

'MacLeod,' it read, 'I regret that I had to use your phone to make a call to Monte Carlo. Please send me the bill and I will gladly reimburse you.' 

''I will gladly reimburse you,'' quoted Duncan in a high, sing-song voice. 'Oh, thank you, Miss Hurt-Feelings-of-the-Year.' 

Not only had he insulted his house guest, but he had driven her away before they had gotten around to playing 'traveling salesman.' He had really been looking forward to that; Amanda had the best ideas for that game. He remembered standing outside his own loft door, sample case in hand, wearing a fedora and a bow tie, waiting for the lady of the house to answer his knock. It had been drafty in the hall but all the same, it had been worth it when Amanda had complimented him on the quality of his-. 

'Damn it!' he said, crumpling the note and throwing it across the room. 

\---a few weeks later--- 

'Hello?' 

'Stop with the presents, MacLeod,' ordered a testy voice on the other end of the line. 

'Amanda? Amanda! Don't hang up!' 

'Flowers? Fine. Truffles by the ton? Great. Jewelry? Good choice. But MacLeod, I hate Gummy Bears, and I have ten pounds of them congealing in my hotel room. Have you lost your mind?' 

'Why would you hate Gummy Bears? Never mind, just tell me you forgive me. You forgive me, right?' 

'Perhaps.' 

'What can I do to make you absolutely positive that you forgive me?' purred Duncan, checking the balance of his bank account in anticipation of the groveling he'd be doing soon. If he was lucky. 

'Just show me, darling. I'm a simple girl with simple needs.' 

'I know you are,' he agreed, choking back the guffaw that threatened to undermine this hopeful conversation, 'so what can I do? Anything, Amanda.' 

'Anything?' 

'I swear.' 

'Well, there's a festival in your neighborhood next week, you know. And I've made plans to attend. I've taken the liberty of signing you up for an activity-' 

'Wait a minute. Does this have anything to do with throwing knives?' 

'Of course not, darling. This is for charity. It's a quaint little device called a 'dunking chair,' are you familiar with it?' 

Silence on Duncan's end of the line. 

\---the next week--- 

There was another tremendous splash, and the crowd cheered lustily. Amanda smiled wickedly as she scanned the onlookers, who seemed to be ninety-five percent women. She watched Duncan sputter, cough, and grope his way out of the tank and back into the chair, his tee-shirt and bike shorts plastered to his body. 

'Amanda,' he shouted, 'how much longer? I'm getting chafed here!' 

'Don't worry, darling, I'll powder that nasty rash after you dry off,' she shouted back, bringing a wave of jeers and laughter from the crowd. 

'Amanda! When I get my hands on-' 

SPLASH! 

Amanda waved sweetly at MacLeod as he went down again. The marksmanship of those woman softball teams was astounding, she thought with satisfaction, and all for the price of new uniforms. Charged on MacLeod's Platinum Visa, of course. 

* * *

Home 


End file.
